


Wake-up Call

by Aibohp



Series: Things Are Getting Weird [4]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Depressed Mabel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grunkle Ford doesn't approve, He and Rick don't get along, and everyone is yelling, blink and you miss it Stanchez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 23:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6133471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aibohp/pseuds/Aibohp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Directly follows <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6123421">Makeover Madness</a>. Ford gives Rick and Mabel a wake-up call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake-up Call

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm still chasing this train of thought down with little concern for my own safety or the well-being of others. And please forgive me for anything weird in my writing? I don't have a beta and sometimes I miss things. My biggest issue is not completely removing sentences that I decided to rework/not use.

“RICK, JUST WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!” 

Of course it would be Ford that woke up first and stumbled upon the brightly dressed duo. Rick’s groans as he woke where complimented by Mabel’s as she tried to crawl further into the armchair she’d fallen asleep on. She didn’t appreciate the abrasive wakeup call anymore than Rick did. The older man’s eyes slit open thinly, only for him to squeeze them shut again after seeing Stanford glaring down at him. 

“What are you wearing? Is Mabel drunk?!” the outraged voice demanded. The blue-white haired man tilted his head back as far as he dared and peeled open a single eye to watch as the young woman in the chair slowly dragged herself out of it and weaved toward the kitchen.

“Nah, just hung over,” RIck replied flippantly, forcing himself to sit up. He took care to position his back to the window, though. As his hands found his temples he felt the couch dip next to him and something cold was pressed against his arm. “Mabel, you’re an angel,” he said, snatching the glass out of her hand without even looking to see what it was before chugging half the glass. He almost regretted it as the sugary drink splashed into his stomach, making it rebel almost painfully for a moment. “I take it back! You’re a fucking demon! Are you trying to kill me?” 

“I’m sorry, are you really going to ignore what you just said?! She’s hung over!? As in she’s been drinking prior to this moment? WHAT THE HELL, RICK,” Ford shouted, making the two on the couch cringe as every word sent spikes of pain through their skulls. 

“LANGUAGE, FORD!” Stan’s voice carried from somewhere beyond the kitchen.

“It’s not that big a deal, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel whined in a put-upon voice, her arm thrown over her face to block the sun from her eyes. “And you be quiet Uncle Rick. Drink your Mabel Juice! It’s good for you.” 

“Mabel this is a huge deal! You’re sixteen! Rick is an adult he shouldn’t be encouraging this type of behavior,” Ford insisted furiously, though neither of them paid him much attention, too busy wallowing in self pity over the hangovers they were suffering from. 

It was a bit worse for Mabel than Rick. Years of alcoholism got one pretty well used to the feeling of waking up hungover and ready to die. The seasoned drinker started to grope around the couch cushions, smiling triumphantly when he felt his flask and not only that, but it wasn’t entirely empty. While everyone started to trickle into the room, drawn by Ford’s shouting, he tipped the remaining contents into his cup of drink Mabel had given him. It wouldn’t help the sweetness much, aside from adding an additional burn. Before he could even get a sip, Ford reached out to slap the glass out of his hand. 

“Wh--What the hell, Ford,” Rick snapped, glaring up at the man who looked at him incredulously. stan was hovering in the doorway of the kitchen, frowning at the scene before him. While Morty and Dipper wandered down stairs to sandwich them in from the other side. 

“Awe Jeeze, Rick. What di--did you do? And what are you wearing,” Morty asked, scrubbing a hand over his face to knock the sleep-sand from his eyes. 

“Yeah, what’s going on, Grunkle Ford,” Dipper yawned, scratching at his stomach as he sidled up beside his new friend. Mabel glanced at them from under her arm and squirmed a little. It felt like everyone was looming over her, judging. 

“What’s going on is that Rick is trying to turn your sister into a degenerate.” Beside Rick, Mabel bit her lip and the man beside her had no idea how Ford have so much energy to be so outraged when it was… however early it was. 

“My god, Ford, lay off! She was feeling down so we had a little fun,” Rick snapped, shoving himself up off the couch and then nearly falling back down again, having forgotten the ridiculous shoes he was wearing. “Shit,” he grunted, windmilling his arms for a moment before he got his feet and started stalking toward the kitchen. As he passed through the door he dropped a hand on Stan’s shoulder to keep the tenuous balance he had found. Letting his head flop uselessly to the side, he grinned at the other man. “Brings back memories, yeah,” he joked bitterly, thinking of the times he’d swing around to see the Pines twin after a concert, towering over him even more than usual in his stupid boots while he herded him into the bedroom, or couch, or wall… 

“Don’t you walk away from me,” Ford shouted as he clomped after him. The noise a was accompanied by the sound of at least two other pairs of feet scampering after him. 

For the life of him, he didn’t know why everyone had to follow him into the kitchen. Rather than going through the trouble of getting himself a glass, he simply turned on the tap and shoved his face under the faucet. The water almost tasted sweet in his fuzzy, sour mouth. 

“It’s not even like it was my first drink, Grunkle Ford! Why are you freaking out,” Mabel whined, moving to sit at the table so she could lay her face on it. “You’re as bad as my parents.” 

“See there, not even her first drink,” Rick burbled from under the tap, catching some of the water in his cupped and and splashing it over his face. “Bet drinking isn’t even the worst thing you’ve done, huh,” he continued, pulling himself out of the sink and then dropping down into a chair beside her. Mabel turned her head a little to peek at him through her hair and smiled sheepishly. Rick cackled, reaching out to pat her on the back. “Yeaaah! Mabel’s my girl! She knows how to par--party. Y--you could learn something from her, Morty.” 

“Awe jeeeze…” 

“NO! No one needs to be learning anything from anyone! Especially not you, Rick!” Ford was working himself up into a rant when Stan finally shoved between his brother and the two miserable saps at the table. 

“Calm down, Ford! Rick, you shouldn’t have gotten her drunk. Mabel, sweetie, you shouldn’t be taking drinks from weird old men. Nothing bad happened though! I mean what did you guys do? Get drunk and paint your faces,” the more sensible, at least in Rick’s opinion, Pines twin asked, earning a very real glare from his brother and a much less heated one from his friend. “Its creepy. you look like clowns.” 

“I’ll have you know w--we looked like fuckin' rock stars before we passed out,” Rick stated, and they had but by the time they woke up half their makeup was smeared onto the couch cushions. 

“If my memory serves me right you still do,” Stan said smugly, calling up brief memories of Rick slowly dragging his face out of the pillows and leaving smears of black all over them. Judging from the look on his face, Rick was thinking of the same time. His black-smeared lips had tugged into a filthy grin. 

“WHY ARE YOU ALL SO NONCHALANT ABOUT THIS?! Mabel is a child! I don’t care if it was just one drink or not her first! She shouldn’t be getting into that sort of stuff at all! It’s hazardous to her health and--” Ford didn’t get to finish as Mabel let out a loud bark of laughter and jerked herself up from the table. 

“You know what else is hazardous for your health? GOING OUT ON A FULL MOON TO DOCUMENT WEREWOLVES! But no one yells at Dipper when he does that,” She shouted, hands landing on her hips. 

“That’s different, Mabel! That’s--” Once again, the young woman interrupted her Grunkle, color rising in her cheeks. 

“Yeah it’s different! On the one hand you have me getting drunk and putting on makeup and then you have him, running into the forest to gleefully embrace the jaws of death! But I see what you’re saying! I’m totally the bad kid here because when I do things that are,” her voice, that had started to tremble slightly the longer she yelled, dipped into something bitter and sarcastic, “‘hazardous for my heeeealth’ it’s because i’m trying to have fun instead of risking my life for nerdy science stuff! “

“What? Mabel neither of you are bad kids,” Ford said, not sure how she was getting these apparent messages from his yelling at Rick for letting her drink in the first place. He reached out a six fingered hand to touch her shoulder and try to get her to calm down only to have her shove his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me,” the trembling girl shouted, sniffling a little before she suddenly took off running. Rick watched with a bored gaze as Stan took off after her. 

“Pumpkin, wait up,” the man shouted as the door slammed. 

Silence rang through the house for a moment before Rick took up a slow clap, slouched in his chair and staring up at Ford with a look that of disdain. He told himself the annoyance stemmed from the man’s uptight attitude and nothing else. What did he care if his night of cheering the girl up had just gone down the tubes. She was just some kid. 

“Y--you handled that brilliantly,” Rick said as he stopped to yank off his boots before standing up and heading to the door that lead further into the house. I’m going to go take a shower, let me know when breakfast’s ready.” 

**********

Mabel’s flight into the woods had been horribly ill-timed. That point was driven mercilessly home as she ended up puking her guts up as soon as she got past the treeline. Panting, she leaned against the wide trunk of an oak, pink, foamy vomit pooling on the ground under her face. Much to her disgust she had ended up with some in the ends of her hair. She hadn’t even gotten so far into the woods that she couldn’t see the house and already, she wanted to turn back and go inside. Her pride wouldn’t let her yet, though. 

Straightening up, she scrubbed the back of her wrist over her mouth and trudged further into the woods. She didn’t go too far, both because of the unknown critters lurking among the trees and because she just couldn’t bring herself to go any any farther. As soon as she had lost sight of the house she stopped and dropped down to the forest floor. Her head was pounding and despite having just vomited it felt like her stomach was trying to crawl up her throat. With a deep sigh she sank to her knees and then flopped over on her side. 

Everything had been so fun last night… Why couldn’t it have just stayed that way? 

Mabel pressed her face against the ground and took a small amount of pleasure in the the coolness that leached into her skin. Everything still sucked though. It just didn’t feel fair. All she had done was get a little drunk and play with makeup. The steady thrum of blood rushing in her ears and the pain that pulsed through her skull kept her from thinking any more on the subject, though. Wrapping her arms around her head, she settled into the grass and tried to fall asleep. 

**********

When she woke up not much time had passed. The leafy shadows that dappled the ground may have moved but she wouldn't have known it. She couldn’t even figure out why she had woken up until a hand on her shoulder pushed her over onto her back. Her head was still pounding and she had to squint her eyes into slits to block out what little sun was falling through the canopy of leaves above her to look at who was hovering over her.   
“Dipper why don’t you love me,” she whimpered, tossing her arm over her face. “Put me back in the ground. It’s too bright up here!” Mabel didn’t have to see her twin to know how hard he rolled his eyes at her mellow dramatics. 

“Just sit up, Mabel,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and hauling her up until she was properly seated on the ground, much to her protests. Still, her displeasure with being moved didn’t keep her from snatching the small white pills out of his palm, or taking the bottle of water he offered with them. 

“Thanks bro-bro! You’re the best,” she said before tossing the medicine back and then washing them down with a huge gulp of water. Much to her surprise, her migraine almost instantly dissolved. Looking up at Morty, she found him smiling at her sheepishly. 

“I--I took ‘em from Rick. He’s a jackass a lot of the time b--but he still makes some awesome shit,” the young man said, slowly dropping down to sit with the twins and completing the triangle between them. 

“Thanks Morty,” she said, reaching out to slug him playfully in the shoulder. “You’re the best too! Normally I’d give you a sticker but I wasn’t prepared to be surrounded by so much awesomeness this morning!” She was acting as though everything up to that point hadn’t even happened and Morty seemed fine with indulging her for the time. 

Dipper, however, looked like he was about to explode. 

“Mabel what was all that in the shack just now,” he finally snapped out… It had taken a little longer than she had thought it would. “I mean you know Grunkle Ford wasn’t mad at you right?! He was pissed because Rick,” he spit the name out with annoyance, “decided it was okay to let you drink in the first place. And you know, personally? I’m not too thrilled about that either!” 

“I know Dip,” Mabel sighed, hugging her knees to her chest. “Just don’t worry about it, okay? I know I was being stupid and stuff it’s no big deal,” she said, trying to sooth her twin’s ruffled feathers. It was more for her sake than his, though. She didn’t want to try and explain to her twin the twists and jumps in her logic that lead to her outburst, or why she had been drinking in the first place.

“NO! You’re not getting me to leave you alone that easy Mabel! Not this time! You might not think it’s a big deal, but you’re scaring me, alright,” Dipper’s voice had reached something mildly frantic as he spoke. Frowning deeply, he looked away from his sister and reached up to scratch at the pathetic little tuft of fur on his chin that was trying to take root. “You’ve been acting weird for months and it’s starting to freak me out.” 

Mabel was…. stunned. She honestly hadn’t thought he’d noticed.

Every since they had turned thirteen, it seemed like they were drifting apart. They weren’t in as many of the same classes in highschool. In the subsequent summers spent in Gravity Falls they stopped sharing the attic. Their friends and interests barely intersected most times and slowly but surely they had found themselves missing out on little parts of each other's lives and the rift between them seemed to steadily grow. Mabel hadn’t been there to tease Dipper as he got ready for his first date. Dipper wasn’t around when Mabel had come home after her first school dance, crying because she caught her current boyfriend cheating on her. 

And instead of scrambling to close the gap, she had hurried to isolate herself. 

“I--I’m sorry, Dipper,” she stuttered, reaching out carefully to touch her brother’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I didn’t know you’d noticed how I was acting lately,” she admitted quietly, unable to meet the boy’s eyes. 

“Of course I noticed, Mabel! You’re my twin… and you don’t have to be sorry just talk to me,” Dipper begged, lifting a hand to latch onto his sister’s arm. “Listen, I know I haven’t been as available as I should be but I don’t want you to think i haven’t noticed how we’re drifting. I miss you too, Mabel. I don’t know what I’d do without you! You’re my best friend. But you seem less and less like yourself every time I see you. I want to help but I can’t if you won’t talk to me.” 

Mabel sniffled a little, letting go of her knees and letting her legs fall so she could rub at her watering eyes. Trails of mascara started to roll down her cheeks, cutting through what was left of her makeup. She didn’t want to cry. She was supposed to be resiliently happy and strong and just… Mabel! It was impossible to stop the tears bubbling forth, though, and the more that spilled the more impossible it got to swallow them back down. 

“I--I know,” she said, voice getting tight and high pitched. A hand presse against her shoulder and started to make wide, sweeping circles across her upper back. “I just--just I don’t know what’s wrong with--with--with me!” Despite her best efforts, her breath started to come in choppy, strangled gasps and she had to pull away from Dipper so she could bury her face in both her hands. “I don’t know why I can’t--can’t just be happy! And I don’t know if--if it’s okay to feel the way I do. Some--SOmetimes I just get so an--angry and I feel so alone and I don’t--I don’t know if I’m overreacting or not! Everything is just soo--oo--oo fucked up! I’ve forgotten how to con--connect with people and I don’t know when it happened but I h--ha--hate it!” 

She tried to say more, feeling like she wasn’t making herself clear enough and feeling stupid for it; but her voice was being eaten up by hiccuping sobs that made her entire body jerk with the force of them. The noises falling from her mouth were loud and ugly wails that sounded grating, even to her own ears but she just couldn't bite them back no matter how hard she tried. 

Warmth spread all along one side of her, the one Dipper had been sitting on, as her twin scooted close and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Morty didn’t move any closer but he kept his hand on her back. It was everything that she ever wanted, sometimes. She wanted the feeling of people paying attention to her, seeing she was hurting, taking care of her. Even though, as it was actually happening, she felt vulnerable and stupid for letting anyone see what a mess she was. Shuddering once more, she leaned into Dipper’s side and dropped her hands from her face as she turned it into her brother’s shoulder. One landed in her lap and the other groped out to the right until it landed on Morty’s knee. 

“L--listen, Mabel, nothing’s wrong with you, alright? I mean feelings aren’t rational, they don’t make sense! No one can tell you h--how you’re feeling is wrong. If something hurts, it hurts y--you know? You shouldn’t feel like less of a person because you’re ‘going through a depressive episode or wh--whatever! But you don’t have to deal with it alone. The people who love you want to help, r--right Dipper,” Morty said, attempting to comfort the younger girl. She was always so sweet and chipper as she tried to spread the happiness to everyone around her. It just didn’t feel right that she should be struggling with her despair in her half self-imposed loneliness. 

She sniffled softly and lifted her head a little, letting them see her blotchy, red face. Pieces of hair were stuck to her damp cheeks and what little makeup she was wearing was either gone or spread across her face in dark trails and smudges. Hesitantly the older teen reached out to peel it all away and tuck it behind her ear. 

“Sometimes,” a sniffling cough, “sometimes I can’t remember being happy. I mean I know that I have been. I remember doing stuff and being happy when I did it but I can’t recall the feeling, you know? Sometimes I don’t even feel like I’m real… it’s kind of scary,” she murmured, biting down on her lip as she stared vacantly at the forest floor. 

“Don’t worry, Mabel,” Dipper said quietly, resting his head on top of hers. “It’s going to be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> So now I'm going to ask what you guys would like to hear about! I started this without any clear plot so I'm open to a little suggestion on what to write next or what to include in what I'm already writing.


End file.
